Bother
by assassi
Summary: "We might not be a functional team anymore; just a handful of forgotten heroes, scattered around. But we're all he has left, Steve." All he has left. The words stung and Steve closed his eyes again, waiting for the pain to ebb away. They had to get to Tony. Somehow. STONY. Hurt/Comfort/Romance. Complete.


**Disclaimer: I do not own _Avengers_ or any/other _Marvel_ characters.**

 **Bother**

Tony stepped into what had once been Avengers Headquarters and sighed. It was over. The Avengers were done. Even as he had arranged everything, so it would look like Cap saved the day again and freed them from their prison. Steve had said in that letter that they would always be _his_ , not Steve's, but Tony didn't think so. Not anymore, if it had ever even been so. They would be free, but they'd never forgive him. They could never work again, as a team. Not without trust.

So he would do what he did best. He was on his own again; he would start all over.

He had no choice, really.

He only had to grab the few things he had brought here that actually mattered and he would be off again, back… wherever. Not the tower, certainly, since it was also sporting a big shiny Avengers sign, back from the days when Tony naively believed this could work.

And it had, in fact. For a while.

He stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for his floor.

" _State your name"_ , a cold voice echoed in the empty space.

What? He had thought all that had been over once SHIELD was destroyed.

"Tony", he hissed out.

" _State your name",_ the voice insisted again.

Tony sighed. Who was he trying to fool? He knew what the system was waiting for, what everyone always waited for.

" _Stark_. Anthony Edward", he said with a hollow voice, staring blankly as the door closed and the lift finally took his order.

* * *

 _ **Four months later**_

Steve waited patiently in the long line. Sam insisted that he could grab a cup of decent coffee from pretty much everywhere, but Steve liked this place. It was always busy, buzzing with life, just the kind of place Tony would like…

He caught himself, too late again, and frowned as the familiar ache in his chest reminded him of the days he could hardly breathe, back when he was a scrawny boy from Brooklyn and Bucky was his only friend.

The ache intensified and Steve cursed himself – was that all he could think of anymore, Tony and Bucky? And how they were both gone from his life now.

"Yes?", the girl on the cash register asked with a smile.

Steve forced a similar expression on his face and ordered a plain black coffee. She looked at him, surprised that he would wait so long for something so simple, something he could get anywhere.

Steve said nothing.

"Here you go, sir", she said in a minute, his order being the one finished the fastest amongst all the other. Her gaze lingered on his face and Steve quickly paid and hurried to leave before real recognition made her eyes wide and round and she squealed something like…

"You look an awful lot like Captain America, you know that?"

Steve gritted his teeth and turned, ready to deny. His own eyes widened as he saw the petite redhead, lounging against the wall by the café's exit.

"Your face looks familiar too. Haven't I seen you running around in a leather suit?", he smiled.

Natasha smirked back.

"Ah, the good old days. Back when I was trying to reign in a group of wayward boys. 'Trying to' being the operative word."

Steve's smile faded. "What are you doing here, Nat?"

"We need to talk. Somewhere privately."

Steve frowned. "Is Coulson trying to gather the gang again? 'Cause I don't think I'm up fo-…"

"It's Tony", Natasha simply said.

* * *

"When he went back to the wreaks of the Malibu house, we thought he just needed something to do, a project to occupy his time. Rebuilding a house seemed totally innocent. You know how Tony is – when he works, he's only focused on work, nothing and no one else. We took it for normal the first month or so. But then more months followed. He never came out. He doesn't talk to anyone, not even Rhodes anymore, not after he pressed him, telling him that he had to reconcile and reconnect with people…"

"Meaning with Pepper", Steve gritted out. _But not only_ , he admitted to himself guiltily.

Natasha didn't confirm, didn't even nod. Her hard unblinking stare didn't leave Steve's eyes.

"We tried to talk to him. Clint was pretty messed up when he came out of the house."

"Clint?"

"He blames himself, for the things he said back in that prison. He was affected, he was supposed to be taking his family to an amusement park and instead he had been tossed in jail. He blamed Tony. And now Tony blames himself."

"Everyone blames themselves", Steve muttered darkly, vivid memories of Tony's betrayed eyes, staring at him, waiting for a final blow Steve could never deliver flashing in his mind. Tony had been so surprised when Steve hadn't beheaded him; Tony had looked so sure that Steve would end him.

The blonde closed his eyes, wincing from the memories.

"It's been four months, Steve. We need to somehow reach him. Now more than ever."

He looked up in her eyes, searching for what she wanted to say.

"We might not be a functional team anymore; just a handful of forgotten heroes, scattered around. But we're all he has left, Steve."

 _All he has left_. The words stung and Steve closed his eyes again, waiting for the pain to ebb away.

They had to get to Tony. Somehow.

* * *

Twenty seven missed calls for a day. Tony ignored the flashing display of his smartphone; Natasha this time. She never gave up.

He sat on the balcony of the once more stunning Malibu house. Its design had initially been his, of course, viewed by the architectural magazines as a work-of-art. It had been a real blow for Tony when it had been destroyed, years ago, by Aldrich Killian.

But now it was reborn again. Like Tony had been. Maybe if he dived deep enough into the ocean he would find the arc reactor he had thrown all that time ago.

Now, it felt like he had thrown an entire life. Pepper. Rhodey. Natasha, Clint and the others. Steve…

His phone lit up again, the ID telling him it was Rhodey, once again. He wasn't ready to talk to him, not yet.

He sipped from the bottle of water, staring into the ocean. A beeping sound made him look sideways and smile.

"It will be just like the old days, Dummy. Just me and you guys", he saluted his bots with the water bottle.

Behind his back, his phone flashed with another name: Philip Coulson.

* * *

The insisting ringing put Steve on edge even as he stood up to answer the door. Natasha rushed in, looked around quickly and hissed,

"Pack up, Cap. We're leaving now."

"Where to?", he asked, confused.

"Malibu", she bit out.

Now that he actually listened, there was a hushed noise from the top of the building. Something that sounded a lot like… a helicarrier?

"I thought we would talk", he growled as he put on some sneakers. He didn't reach for a weapon: he hadn't seen his shield for four months, ever since he left it by a broken man in a broken suit.

"There's no time for talking", Natasha groaned as they ran up the stairs.

* * *

Tony was dozing off on the couch in the living area when a voice echoed in the vast room.

"Attention! Security breach!", FRIDAY informed him.

Tony had only just managed to jump up from the sofa when a huge hard body collided with his own, throwing him back on the ground, just in time before the bullets started ricocheting. The air that had left Tony's lungs never quite managed to find a way back as he stared up into deep blue eyes, frantically searching his own.

"Wha-…?", he gasped.

"HYDRA", Stave hissed, grabbing him tighter, holding him closer, shielding Tony with his bigger frame as the world exploded around them. A piece of the ceiling fell heavily on Steve's back, making him groan. Tony wriggled underneath him.

"Move", he hissed.

"No", Steve stubbornly said, still hunched protectively over him.

"Move, I can't summon the suit", Tony pulled back his arm.

The sound of running feet echoed on the stairs, or what was left of them. Tony's movement became more frantic.

"Move the f-…!"

A masked man aimed at them, only to be shot right between the eyes. With an arrow.

Tony craned his neck just in time to see Clint pull back another one as another enemy followed the first HYDRA soldier. Natasha took that one out and Clint aimed at another one, and another one…

"Steve!", Tony yelled. He managed to free one arm and press the combination of the bracelet. Immediately, the suit unfolded around him, protecting him better than a soldier without…

"Don't you miss something?", Tony asked as a vibranium shield came flying into his hand. He handed it over to a stunned Steve, who quickly shook off his surprise and took his trademark weapon. They stood up, back to back as they fought the invasion of masked soldiers.

"How many are there!?", Tony yelled, frustrated, as he took out an enemy that had been aiming at Wanda.

"No idea", Clint said, ducking behind an upturned grand piano.

"43 left", Vision informed them. "The construction is unstable. We should retreat", he added just as the house gave a loud groan and notably swayed towards the ocean.

Tony gritted his teeth. "Grab Clint and Wanda", he hissed, taking hold of Steve and Natasha and taking off just as the house began crumbling down the slope.

Safely back in the helicarrier, Tony looked blankly at what had been his home.

"I'd just finished it", he mumbled, his voice hollow.

"Maybe it wasn't meant to be, man", Clint patted his back with sympathy. He was bleeding profusely but it didn't seem like he cared or even felt anything, not anymore, after so many years in SHIELD.

Tony frowned slightly as if a thought had just occurred to him.

"Where are we going?", he asked quietly.

Steve looked back at him, trying to reach him, to make him understand.

"We're going home", he just said.

Because as dysfunctional as they seemed, they were all _they_ had left.

* * *

 _ **Six months later**_

No one else would have heard the quiet footsteps.

Steve wasn't just anyone.

He waited nervously, eyes glued on the door, for Tony to step into the kitchen.

The genius walked in, noticed Steve and flinched a little, as if he didn't want to be caught. He made a beeline for the coffee machine, muttering a weak "morning".

Steve ground his teeth.

"Dinner's ready."

"M? I'm not hungry, just grabbin' a cuppa…"

"When was the last time you ate, Tony?"

"They do make deliveries directly to the workshop, Steve."

"And when did they?"

"… One of these days. Yesterday?"

"Tony, you have to eat and sl-…"

"What are you, my mom?!"

They both winced. No, Steve wasn't Maria or Howard. And he couldn't replace them. And he hadn't made it hurt any less by hiding the truth about their death from Tony.

"I'm going down in the shop. Don't wait for me", Tony said, walking away and taking the whole pot of coffee.

"I never do anymore", Steve whispered hollowly.

Natasha, quietly observing the scene, sighed, putting down her book.

"Don't push, Steve. Give him some space. Time."

"It's been half a year, Nat."

"Some things heal slowly."

And some things never did heal. Steve was afraid that might be the case with him and Tony.

* * *

"Captain Rogers."

It wasn't exactly a question but Steve looked up from his sketchbook and answered anyway.

"Yes, FRIDAY?"

"You requested to be informed if Ms. Potts enters the perimeter."

A holographic monitor blinked into life right in front of Steve and he observed as the woman clenched her small fists nervously as the elevator took her down to the shop. Steve's jaw clenched.

"Redirect Ms. Potts to _this_ floor instead, FRIDAY."

"Understood, Captain."

* * *

Pepper blinked, surprised when the elevator changed directions suddenly. She looked around, confused and a little scared. Steve felt a grim satisfaction in seeing that. He left his sketchbook on the couch in his private suite in the tower and went to greet Virginia Potts.

The doors opened and Pepper looked up, still a little spooked, but determined. Her surprise in seeing Steve was evident, but soon changed into a hesitant smile.

"Steve? What are doi-…?"

"I believe the right question is what are _you_ doing here, Ms. Potts."

She drew back, surprised by his cold voice.

"Meaning? I was just on my way to Tony's lab…"

" _Just_ on your way? _Just_ now, after six months? More, if we count the time since you broke up."

Pepper's face paled, but she held her head high. It was obvious it cost her a lot of effort, but she kept on the strong façade.

"He needed this time", she said.

Steve arched a brow. "Did he? Or was that just the convenient excuse not to come see him when he needs it the most?"

That hit a little too close. Pepper frowned and pursed her lips; her pose was now attacking instead of defensive.

"What are you hinting at, Steve?"

"I'm not hinting anything. I'm outright asking you: did you just now figure out how much you hurt him?"

It was obvious how that hurt _her_. But she wouldn't let him get away just like that.

"And when did _you_ figure it out, Steve? Or _did_ you?"

He frowned. Just like that the roles were reversed and now he was the one confused.

"I wasn't the only one who hurt him, Steve. You did so, too. And not only by hiding the truth from him. That hurt the most, but it wasn't all there was to it. I wasn't the only one who _left_ him."

Steve clenched his fists. "It's true that it might have taken us a bit too long, but when he needed us the most, his friends went back for him…"

He was interrupted by her unbelieving laugher. "Friend? Is that what you are to him, Steve?"

His frown deepened. What was that supposed to mean?

Pepper shook her head. "You can be so blind sometimes. But before you go accusing the others, I suggest you open up your own eyes."

And with that she was gone, leaving a dumbstruck captain, staring at the elevator's closed steel doors.

* * *

Steve ducked, stepped back and swung a half-hearted punch, sparring on autopilot while his mind was reeling. He was miles away but years in the military and the serum in his system wouldn't betray him, always making sure he was fighting adequately, even if he wasn't really into it.

His sparring partner however was having none of it.

"Where are you, Steve?", Natasha called, not really ceasing her attacks.

He shook his head, just in time to duck again.

"It's just something Pepper said."

"Oh?", Natasha lifted a delicate brow.

He sighed. "Nat… do you think Tony sees me as… anything different than a friend?"

She actually stopped mid-attack. "I do", she said after carefully regarding the blonde for a second.

He frowned. "You think he hasn't forgiven me and could never again see me as a friend, if he ever even has?"

"No. That is not what I think, Steve. And that wasn't what Pepper meant either", Natasha sighed.

He frowned. "I don't understand…"

"Tony sees you as more than just a friend, Steve. More than just Howard's obsession, as he was searching for you after the war, years on end. More than the man who is thorn, and will always be thorn, between his parents' murderer and Tony himself. He sees you as more than an ally, more than a teammate. That's why he feels betrayed by _you_ the most. That's why it's so hard for him to patch things up with _you_."

Steve felt the familiar pang such words caused him these days and ignored it – he had more important things to consider.

"He sees me as… what then, Nat?"

She shook her head, looking a little lost.

"Don't ask me to put a name on it. I'm not even sure it could be described as entirely bromantic or even romantic. It's… too layered. And if you need a better definition, I think you know whom you should ask."

Steve frowned again, looking away. Yes, he knew whom he should ask. He just didn't know _how_.

* * *

A few more days had to pass before Steve gathered some courage and went to see Tony in the workshop. Things weren't as tense between them in the last couple of weeks as they had been for half a year and Steve often found himself thinking whether Tony had seen a footage of his confrontation with Pepper and had decided Steve was on his side.

It was just a theory however. FRIDAY was loyal to Tony first and only then, if he allowed, to the rest of the Avengers.

Tony was busy when Steve entered the shop; he was always busy. Now, it looked like he had once again started working on a project he had been postponing for far too long, for emotional reasons – Dummy's repair. He had, once again, dug out his favorite bots from the bottom of the ocean and he had tried to save what was savable from the original parts and only replace the parts that were beyond repair. He looked frustrated, hurt and so sad and lonely when he worked on Dummy and Butterfingers that Steve's chest ached with that familiar pain he had come to associate with Tony Stark.

"Fuck!", Tony cursed as another original part of Dummy cracked and fell into pieces in his hands. Steve winced.

"I'm sorry, Tony", he said.

"Don't", the genius muttered, throwing the old gadget and replacing it with yet another new one. "You always apologize for this, for them. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't you, who destroyed the house. Again."

Noting the cold, detached way Tony said "the house" instead of "my home", Steve sighed.

"I'm not apologizing for that."

"Don't apologize for anything", Tony murmured.

"Tony…", the blonde began, exasperated.

"Steve", the genius answered stubbornly.

"We cannot pretend nothing happened! It broke us once and it's been braking us for months now. We need to…"

"No, Steve. _I don't_ need to talk about this. I don't need…"

"Please."

It wasn't quite a weak plea and it could never be an order. But it finally did make Tony look him in the eyes.

"I cannot change the fact that the killer of my parents is your childhood friend, Steve. I cannot delete him from your life and I cannot delete the gap he left in mine."

Steve flinched again. "And I can't change the choice I made in choosing not to tell you when I found out."

"When did you? Have you known this the whole time or…"

"When SHIELD fell."

"…Oh."

"We had just gotten close. I couldn't… Tony, I knew it could have ended you! And when you did find out, it almost did, you were so close to losing it… Fuck, you did lose it, Tony, and it fucking killed me to see it!"

"Because I would have killed _him_ …"

"Because it would have killed _you_!", Steve shouted. "Both of you…", he added with a broken whisper. "I cannot lose you, Tony. Not again. Not _both_ of you. Not _either_ one of you."

Tony remained silent. Steve couldn't look up from where he was staring blankly at the floor when he said,

"I don't have a name for this either. I don't have a definition for what you and I have. Even if you hate me; I won't back away. I can't."

"Me neither", Tony said with a dull, hollow voice. When Steve dared to look up he was met with Tony's back; but when the genius spoke again, if quietly, his words were clear, "It would have been so much easier to hate you. But I can't do it either."

Steve felt the weight, lifted from his shoulders, like it was a very real, tangible and physical burden that had been removed. He could breathe again. It wasn't perfect, it would probably never be, but it was real and it was finally cleared out.

He didn't press for more – confessions, definitions, memories and feelings; not that night and maybe not ever. He didn't need to.

* * *

"He was with me; when he found out."

Tony looked up from his plate, caught in a rare moment of actually pausing to eat, and stared at Natasha. She was staring back in that unnerving, unblinking way of hers.

"We followed a lead. It was a trap – ironically, we were trapped by a man long dead and it was him who told us something we would never otherwise believe. We learned how HYDRA had been living inside of SHIELD. What we thought we were fighting against was a part of what we fought for. Zola told us how they had been working against SHIELD, from within SHIELD. How they had been… killing SHIELD's most influential figures. Like your father. _"Accidents will happen"_ – that was all he said at the time. We were almost killed just a few minutes later. Because that's what happens to all who are snooping around HYDRA, all who are digging into the past. That's what would have happened to you if you had learned the truth. That's what he was really trying to prevent by not telling you."

"Because I'm all that's left of Howard?", Tony asked quietly.

Natasha frowned. "Don't be an idiot", she just said, leaving a stack of photos in front of him, then promptly leaving the room.

All of them looked like they were screenshots from security cameras – in conference rooms, the streets, the tower. Tony picked up the first picture. It showed Steve holding his unmoving body after he had just fallen from a black hole after the New York battle; the blonde looked seconds away from losing it. The second showed Tony, unconscious in the hospital after another battle; Steve was sitting in a hard plastic chair by his bed, staring at him. A third picture and they were attending a briefing: Tony was making a face, reading a file; Steve was watching _him_. A fourth photograph – Tony was working in the shop and Steve was just entering his emergency code to bring him actual food. Fifth – Tony, wincing, a hand over his left side, a week after Sokovia; Steve was just a few steps behind him, already reaching out for him. Sixth – Tony, in a suit, about to enter a business meeting; Steve was carefully watching him, analyzing every move, his stance, his whole well-being. Seventh – Steve's stricken face, just a few days ago in the workshop.

" _I cannot lose you, Tony."_

Tony sighed and dragged a hand though his hair, messing up the dark strands even more.

* * *

Tony sighed as he slipped into the limo and closed the door after himself – he insisted so, just as Happy insisted to open it for him when he had to step out of it. Happy said that was the way you were supposed to step on the red carpet. Tony said it was bullshit and Happy was far more than his personal driver. They had debated and reached a delicate compromise that Tony could get in and close the door himself, but Happy would open it as he stepped out.

Now, just as Tony sat alone into the vast space, that same door and the one on the other side opened again and four more people climbed in. Tony stared, wide eyed and uncomprehending, as Steve, Natasha, Wanda and Clint made themselves comfortable, Clint still muttering about ties and monkey suits. They were all dressed to impress, just like Tony himself was, and looked back at him smugly.

"What", Tony said, not managing to make it sound like a question.

"We're coming with you. Obviously", Natasha said, daring him to defy her. Which he did.

"Um. No, you're not."

"Try to stop us then", Wanda smiled, red sparkles shimmering along her fingers.

"You'll want to put that away, young lady", Tony warned, only making her smile widen. "Seriously, what the hell?"

"Do I need to remind you what happened the last time we left you alone?", Natasha asked.

Tony gritted his teeth. "I'm not the weak link."

"We're not saying you are", Steve finally spoke. "This is us, considering you too important to…"

"Attend a gala by myself? Without nannies?", Tony snipped.

"Yes, without supervision", Clint barked, giving up on his tie and tossing it aside. Natasha picked it up and quietly set to tie it around his neck, the way it was supposed to be tied. "We're coming with you, Stark. Sam and Vision are staying behind and on stand-by if need be. We'll be sticking around so get over it."

Tony grumbled all the way to the gala. Clint tried to shut him up with his tie and Steve had to restrain him while Natasha retied the unfortunate tie.

* * *

" _We're live-streaming the annual IAVA gala where everyone seems to be waiting for one Tony Stark. Famous both with his own unfortunate time in Afghanistan and his past involvement in the military weaponry, America's Bad Boy hasn't attended any social event since his Malibu house was once again… Wait! Here he is, Tony Stark, followed by none other than Captain America! Wait a moment… we can also see Hawkeye, Black Widow and the Scarlet Witch, seems like all the Avengers are attending this event that just got all the more glamorous! Mister Stark! Mister Stark! Can I ask you a-…"_

" _Robbie, Robbie… I may finally spare you more than a sarcastic remark when you finally learn that I am famous, period, and not just because some unfortunate bastard tried to fuck with me and suffered the consequences."_

"…"

* * *

Tony was having a very irritating conversation with one of Gen. Ross' colleagues, trying to find a way out before he punched the guy.

"…because it was reckless, obviously. But anyway, how is he?"

Tony clenched his jaw. "Colonel Rhodes is recovering. I will make sure he's up in the sky in no time, I assure you", he bit out, watching with grim satisfaction as the general stepped back, alarmed by his firm tone.

Someone tapped his shoulder and Tony turned, ready for another verbal fight. Instead he stared into Steven Rogers' baby blue eyes.

"Can I have this dance?", the captain asked.

Tony eyed him, calculatingly, but not hiding his slight smirk of amusement. "This is a military event and we're both men."

Steve shrugged. "They did repeal DADT."

Tony grinned and took the offered hand, surrendering to Steve's immediate leading role. He didn't lead them to the center of the dance floor but didn't exactly stick to the shadows either, Tony noted.

"You dance very well", he admitted.

"Thank you", Steve smiled.

"So what brought this on?", Tony asked.

The blonde hesitated for a second before answering and it was obvious the truth was still painful.

"I never got the chance to dance with the last person I wanted to invite. I'm not making the same mistake again."

Tony nodded and didn't press for more. For once he remained quiet and for a while they danced in pleasant silence.

* * *

It was something Natasha told him later, right before they were about to get in the car. She smiled and handed him another picture – Tony and Steve dancing; Tony was talking and Steve was watching him with something Tony didn't even dare to name, because it looked a lot like pure adoration.

" _You might not be the weak link, but you're_ _ **his**_ _weakness."_

* * *

When Thor strode though their threshold one beautiful morning, no one really expected it. Steve was the one to meet the Asgardian first and he was shocked how much he had changed. Thor didn't fall into exuberant greetings with his booming voice. Instead he just smiled a much wiser, if a little tired smile and just squeezed Steve's shoulder, looking at him straight in the eyes. Steve smiled back.

"I'm glad to see you again, buddy."

Thor nodded. "The joy is shared, my friend."

Steve's smile got a little more natural and he tilted his head to the kitchen.

"I think Tony still keeps a hidden stash of pop-tarts somewhere."

* * *

Steve watched as Tony and Thor interacted, talking and laughing in the shop. Tony was working on yet another update for the suit – it was either that or Rhodes' rehabilitation, and Thor observed, standing nearby but never in the way.

"He looks like he's been through a lot", Natasha mused from behind Steve's back. He didn't jump or even wince – he was used to Natasha managing to sneak up on him.

"Loki must be making things difficult again", Steve added.

"It's always hard to fight with your own family", she said.

"Yeah", Steve agreed quietly. He knew that almost from first-hand experience. The Avengers might not be blood related, but they were the closest he had to a family. Keeping them together, every single temperamental one of them, had been one of Steve's hardest missions.

And he had not even fully succeeded.

"You're thinking about Bruce."

Natasha never really missed anything and sometimes Steve wondered if she had some psychic abilities.

"Don't you?", he turned to her.

She shrugged a delicate shoulder.

"I've learnt to respect people's choices, even when I don't agree with them. Tony has too."

She saw Steve's frown and smirked.

"Do you really think Tony would let a teammate, a great mind and a good friend unsupervised on some level? He's always known where Banner is. I think they even talk or at least communicate somehow, sometimes. I think Tony tried to talk him into coming back, but when he got a firm 'no', he stopped pushing. He knew he'd lose him if he continued to push."

Steve clenched his jaw. Was that what he was doing? Would he lose Tony if he continued to push?

"Steve?"

He looked back at Natasha's deep wise eyes and a small knowing smile.

"That does not always apply."

He smiled back and watched her leave the room as quietly as she had entered it.

* * *

Tony was frustrated. Rhodey's rehabilitation wasn't going as planned, even with the half-suit he had built for his friend. His own suit's update wasn't working the way it was supposed to, either – it _was_ working, per see, it just didn't… _click_ with Tony's image of it.

A carefully wrapped present was carefully put on his work table. He frowned, looking up at brilliant blue eyes. Steve was smiling tentatively.

"What is it?", Tony asked.

Steve shrugged. "Open it."

Tony tore at the wrapping like a five year old, curious what had been deemed capable of surprising him. It turned out to be a book. But not just any book - _"A look into the future – mechanics, physics and the mind of a new age"._ By…

"Edward W. Stark. My grandfather", Tony mumbled, awed. He looked into Steve's smiling eyes again. "It's… incredibly rare and hard to find. First edition, too. How did you…?"

The blonde smirked. "It's hard to impress Tony Stark. I had to do my best."

"Why?", Tony asked.

Steve looked hesitant again. An adorable pale blush crept on his face.

"Would you go out with me?", he all but whispered.

Tony's confused look was just the thing he had been afraid from.

"It's… too soon, isn't it? Or maybe it's not an option at all. It was stupid of me to assume that…"

"Yes."

Steve closed his mouth with a click, blinking owlishly. "No, Tony, I'm not asking you to join us, guys, for a beer. I'm asking you on a date."

"I got that. _Genius_ , billionaire, philanthropist, remember?", Tony smirked.

Steve allowed a small smile. "You forgot playboy."

Tony's expression was serious when he said, "No, I didn't."

 _It's just not true anymore_.

* * *

"Jesus Christ!", Steve swore, holding on tightly to anything he could get a hold on.

"Technically, Cap, you've just violated one of the Ten Commandments", Tony noted, amused.

"What?!", Steve frowned at him, still gripping his seat and seat belt tightly.

" _Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord, thy God, in vain_."

"I'm pretty sure " _Thou shalt not kill_ " is on that list too!"

"I'm just driving, Steve."

"This is _not_ driving, Tony!", Steve screamed as they flew by a sign, informing them that they should be going with a third of the speed they were going with.

"Oh? Do you want to drive then?", Tony smirked.

"Yes, I do! Pull over! Pull over _right now_!"

Surprised, Tony did. They got out of the Veyron and Steve reached for the keys. Tony opened his mouth to say something, but a blond brow raised in question and a challenge. Tony smirked again and surrendered the keys, preparing for a show.

Steve got on the driver's seat, put his belt on and waited for Tony to do the same (which he did with a roll of his eyes and a huge sigh). Steve started the engine, shifted the gears and drove off elegantly and with ease. He looked sure and composed, like he'd been born to drive sport cars. Tony wasn't aware that he was staring until Steve smirked and noted,

"Close your mouth, Tony."

Tony did with a click.

"You thought that I can't drive at all", Steve guessed.

"It's just that it's a sport car", Tony covered quickly. "The engine is a lot more powerful than a…"

"I've handled much bigger forces, Tony", Steve remarked, smirking.

"Yeah? Such as?"

Steve shrugged. "A military airplane. The blow of Thor's hammer…", his smirk widened a little, "You."

Tony regarded him with an expression Steve couldn't read: it looked a little awed, a little unbelieving, a little touched, happy, a touch of shy, but also a bit smug and calculating.

"Pull over", Tony said.

Steve frowned, but did so, assuming Tony wanted to take the driver's seat again. But as soon as the car stopped moving Tony's lips attacked his in a surprising kiss, short, but passionate, taking Steve's breath away. Just as soon as Steve even realized what was happening, Tony pulled back in his own seat and regarded him with a satisfied smug smirk.

"Yeah. You handle me well. _So far_."

Steve blinked owlishly, still dumbstruck. Tony's smile widened.

"Shalt thou take us to the restaurant any time tonight?", he teased.

Steve cleared his throat and started the car again, trying to ignore his blush and Tony, practically buzzing with smugness next to him.

* * *

"I still can't believe you kissed me. On the first date."

Tony grinned behind his wine glass. "How frivolous of me."

Steve didn't smile back. He looked troubled. Tony's grin faded and he became serious.

"Did it really bother you?", he asked.

"No. Yes. But not in the way you think", Steve said.

"And what _is_ the way I think?", Tony pressed.

Steve shook his head. "Let's just enjoy the wine."

Tony didn't push anymore but it was obvious that Steve's reaction bothered him.

* * *

The tower's garage was quiet and deserted when they got out of the car and Tony prepared to say something witty at the end of an awkward night. He opened his mouth, but didn't get the chance to speak as Steve's lips silenced him with a demanding kiss. It lasted only a few seconds before the blonde pulled back, smiling slightly at Tony's stunned expression.

"I thought kisses bothered you", the genius said.

"It bothered me that our first ended before I got to kiss you back", Steve said.

Tony smiled slowly, genuinely, as he leant for another kiss. In which they both got to participate equally.

* * *

They didn't have sex that night, or any other night for the next month. Steve didn't initiate anything more erotic than kisses and Tony didn't press for more. He knew Steve was worth waiting for, knew that was the way the man was brought up. He actually found himself oddly captivated by the blonde's old-fashioned wooing.

Because that's exactly what Steve was doing, in his own subtle way. Coffee in the workshop; a walk after midnight; just spending time together. Tony would have expected it to be nauseatingly couple-ly. But it wasn't. It felt like a comfortable companionship.

But at least one of them saw it as something more.

And because the other one was Tony Stark, he found that out the hard way.

"What was that out there?", Steve asked, eerily quiet and collected.

Tony, seconds after being patched up by the medical team, winced as he tried to take a deep breath. His stitches hurt. His several broken ribs hurt. His head hurt and he felt nauseous. Still. It wasn't as bad as Afghanistan.

He must have said that out loud because Steve's jaw tightened and he growled out,

"You were more careful and determined to survive back there. You're outright suicidal now!"

"I was just doing my j-…"

"That's not _your_ job, Tony!", Steve yelled. "We're a team, and you're a part of it! Do not act like a single player! Or have you gone back to your old ways?!"

"My old self was just fi-…"

"I did not fall in love with your old self and you're not single anymore to just risk it all for nothing!", Steve hollered.

Tony was going to blame his big, stupid mouth on the meds that must have finally kicked in, because he didn't want to believe he would otherwise say something as overly idiotic as,

"Aw, Cap, didn't wanna stay a virgin if I died?"

The blonde gave him a blank look. And Tony would have preferred to be punched by Captain America instead of having to hear what Steve said next.

"Why do I even bother with you?"

His voice was quiet and hollow, and miserable and self-depreciating. But the words stung long after Steve left Tony's room and the fucking meds were yet to put Tony to sleep, giving him just enough time to dwell on it.

* * *

Tony took a deep breath and knocked on the door. As soon as it creaked open the words spilled, unrehearsed and rough.

"The truth is I don't even know how we happened. You're everything that I'm not and for a long time I was 100% sure you hate me for it. There were and still are things between us that seem unforgivable, irredeemable. So, Steve, I don't know why you _bother_ with me. Everyone who has, has either left me or died. So leave me if you have to, but please don't die, 'cause I've had enough of that. And if you, by some miracle, decide to stay with me, you know I'm not gonna be easy, but for my part I'll fucking try my best. If you want me to show off how very much _not_ single I am, I'll wear a fucking sign. If you want to keep this your dirty little secret I can do that too. But I am who I am, Steve. I'm stubborn and hot-headed and will rush into things. I talk and act before I have time to think things through and there will be times where I just don't listen…"

"Tony."

The genius looked up into smiling blue eyes.

"Can this not be such a moment? Because I need you to listen to this. If you're really into this, if you really want us, there's no way I'll leave you. I won't keep us a secret. And I want the nauseatingly couple-ly scenario", Steve said, smirking as he saw Tony flinching.

"You're too American not to want it", he gritted. "Fine. You'll get it your way."

"And what will you get?", Steve's smirk widened as he stepped closer to Tony.

" _You_. Obviously", Tony huffed.

"That's good", Steve hid his smile in Tony's hair as he gathered him in his arms. "Because, eventually and when the time is right, I will ask you to wear a sign. Of sorts…"

* * *

 _ **One year later**_

Tony stepped into Avengers Headquarters and sighed. He massaged his stiff neck and began dreaming, vividly, of hot tubs and an even hotter body giving him an almost professional massage. Naked.

He stepped into the elevator, undoing his tie and pressing the button for his floor.

" _State your name"_ , a voice echoed in the empty space.

Tony smirked, balling the tie and playing with the golden band on his ring finger.

"Tony", he said.

" _State your name",_ the voice insisted again.

Did he imagine it or was that actually a very familiar voice playing tricks on him?

" _Rogers -Stark_. Anthony E."


End file.
